It's Monday. A thin layer of clouds drifting overhead, dogging the slow breeze looking down upon Noe Valley and the Mission. It's me there in one of those tan buildings gazing out my office window. I lost myself for a few minutes; and now, i'm wondering exactly where i went to. I've been doing that more and more in these past days. The onset of gerry years upon me at such a young age.
It hasn't been an unpleasant thing, nothing to cause alarm. There was a time a few years back that i experienced a similar episode. It lasted a sum of months and one night slipped away as i slept. If one could marry contentment and indifference... I feel anonymous and at peace, with no exigent need to assert opinion or stand by for anything but humor. And yet, also very distant from my own self... like i'm just watching from afar~ all these actions and reactions in succession. It reminds me of sleep deprivation or the third day of a fast, when the quiet loopiness sets in.
Today one of my students skipped lunch. His father had ran short on time and wasn't able to bring him the usual sack lunch at the 11:30 dot. I came into his classroom after recess and found him in the early stages of meltdown. I made eyes with the teacher in silent explanation and gently nudged him out of class. I stole some crackers from the kitchen and we sat on a bench overlooking the playground. As he mumbled his crackers and slowly came to life i talked. I don't know where it came from, this little sermon in the schoolyard about human bodies and our more subtle mechanics.
This kid is obsessed with Legos. In some aspect he brings Legos into every school subject. In math we add and subtract Legos; in social studies we compare Legos technology to Native Americans' (i'm not kidding...); and, in english we write stories (beginning, middle, end) about, yes, Legos, leading astonishingly anthropomorphic lives. And so, i compared our human bodies to Legos, instead of machines, explaining that one must feed and water the body or it'll be unable to function. He dusted some crumbs off his lap and commented on the strange texture of this particular cracker. I continued: that unlike Legos, we all have feelings and that they can become jumbled when we don't eat or hydrate (hence his issue earlier with another student). Or, that kids' thoughts can wander aimless in the classroom, unable to focus when the teacher's talking. That's when he asked me about kool-aid and how he likes the purple kind. You mean grape? i asked. No... purple, he replied.
2 comments:
Legos, like purple, are the key to understanding and enjoying life. Similar to good food and drink, they nourish the soul, providing a counterbalance to the premature effects of gerry years, vehicles, and cities. They are required.
Part of the growth that we go through as part of the human experience is with the soul, as an integrated part of the body and mind. It's really good that you were there to give that boy advice about how to take care of himself.
You feel old because your soul has undergone greater growth than your body, because you've integrated the spiritual components of your experience. That distance, that sense of space that comes from a greater perspective on life does bring a combination of contentment and indifference. Understanding that life moves on and continues regardless of the circumstances can be a product of age for some people, and many more never grasp it at all.
Legos rock.
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